


Zeus

by brightingales (zoeteniets)



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Ancient Greece, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeteniets/pseuds/brightingales
Summary: James wants something. But first, he has to ask for it.It’s ok though; Harry’s not going to make him beg. Not this time, anyway...





	Zeus

They’re having a lazy afternoon, stretched out on the sofa together. Harry is laying half on top of James, scrolling through his phone, just enjoying being in his partner’s presence. He’s pretty sure that James isn’t all that comfortable – Harry must feel like a dead weight to him snuggled against his chest as he is – but he doesn’t say anything. He just shifts his position every now and again as he flicks through the book he is reading on his kindle. Harry has offered once or twice to get up, but James has always pulled him straight back into position with a muttered “don’t you dare” and a smile.

They’ve been like this for what must be hours now. Harry is sure that he’s heard the Classic FM news broadcast at least twice, but now they are back to soft strings in the background. The sunlight is pale through the windows and the world outside is quiet but not silent. Harry can’t remember the last time he was this happy.

“You enjoy history, don’t you Harry?” James asks out of nowhere. “Of course, you do. You studied History A-Level after all.”

Harry hums in agreement.

“Did you ever study the ancient Greeks much?”

It’s been a while since Harry’s had the time to think about his former studies. “Not that I recall. The A-Level was mostly about the Cold War. We did some stuff on the Tudors too.”

“Ah,” James replies. “So, I’m guessing you don’t know about the rite of passage for young boys in Ancient Greece then?”

Harry moves so that he can look at James more directly. The older man clearly wants to show off his knowledge. He loves it when James is in one of these moods; he could sit and listen to James tell him random facts about music or art or literature for hours. And it’s not like he has any better place to be other than curled up on James’s chest listening to his deep voice rumble through his ribcage and the beat of his heart against Harry’s own.

“The Greeks didn’t have the same concept of sexuality as we do,” James explains. “And they didn’t see homosexuality as wrong or sinful. In fact, the way in which aristocratic young men learnt what it was to be a fully-fledged man was through a romantic and sexual relationship with an older man. The _erastes_ – the older – was to educate, protect, love, and provide a role model for his _eromenos_ – the younger – who rewarded his mentor with his beauty, youth, and promise. Things that, I would like to point out, you yourself possess a bounty of,” James says to him with a pleased curl of his lips.  

“Lots of the Greek Gods had relationships like this,” James continues. “There was Apollo with his Hyacinthus, and Poseidon had a male lover called Pelops. Even Zeus had a favourite, a beautiful boy named Ganymede.”

James has begun stroking his fingers up and down Harry’s arm. The touch is feather-light, but Harry relaxes into it anyway.

“Now, there wasn’t anything socially wrong with this arrangement. Historians seem to think that it was considered a normal part of how society was meant to function. But there were strict rules about who was the passive, receiving partner in their sexual relations. The younger man was supposed to take on the ‘feminine’ role (if it can be called that) and then when he was older and he took his own _eromenos_ he became the active, penetrating partner.”

“Right,” Harry says. He knows James is working up to a point, but he doesn’t want to steal his thunder.

“Anyway, I was thinking about how, even though we claim to live in a much more open-minded society now, a lot of us are still bound up by these old-fashioned ideas: that penetration makes you feminine. That the younger man should always be the receptive partner. That there should be defined ‘sexual roles’ in a relationship…”

Harry knows what James is trying to get at. It’s so like him to come up with a complex historical reason as evidence for why he should be allowed to make what is actually a very simple request.

“James, are you asking me to put my dick in you?” Harry asks bluntly.

The older man only raises an eyebrow in response. Then, “I don’t think I would have put it quite so crassly.”

“I’m not hearing a no…” Harry points out.

“What I was trying to get at… what I wanted to ask… I guess I just wanted to be sure that you’re not doing what we do because you feel like you have to, or because you feel like you have a role in this relationship. I want you to do what feels right for you, just for you, not because you’ve got some massively out-dated idea in your head that because you’re younger and smaller than me you have to be passive to me.”

“… and also, you want my dick in you,” Harry finishes for him.

James sighs exasperatedly but Harry can see the small smile on his lips.

“If you want it, you have to ask for it,” Harry tells James. He gets up slowly from his place and moves so that he is sitting across James’s hips. There has been enough of a tease of seduction in their conversation to get them both going and Harry can feel the heat that pulses between them through the fabric of both their pairs of trousers.

“I don’t beg,” James replies.

“If I wanted you to beg, you’d know about it,” Harry says with a teasing squeeze of his thighs. “I’m not telling you to beg. I’m telling you to ask for it. Nicely.”

A strawberry-hued blush creeps all the way over James’s neck. Harry watches it with rapt attention. This is definitely something he’d like to explore later.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” James says. “Please.”

Harry grabs him by the collar, pulls him up so that they are both now sitting upright, Harry firmly seated in James’s lap. He looks him in the eye before pulling him into a kiss that is surprisingly hot and passionate and dirty. Whatever this is, it’s working for both of them.

James’s hands work into Harry’s hair, pulling and massaging and making Harry feel all sorts of wonderful things. Harry’s own hands are not idle; they stroke and caress their way across James’s back, under his shirt and then lower, lower, lower…

“You will always be my beautiful Ganymede,” James tells him, still carding his fingers through Harry’s hair, slightly breathless from their kiss. “But maybe, I was thinking, you could be my Zeus too?”

How can Harry refuse?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @brigtingales for more jarry nonsense. 
> 
> I did an extra day at work, spent the whole day there writing and then came home and said to myself "you know what would help me relax? More writing!" That will be why none of the above makes any sense at all *scuttles away*


End file.
